Reprint: The Grown & Swexy List

Posted: May 24, 2009 in Uncategorized

Wrote this a long time back and since it’s Sunday and you’re out looking for barbecues and cheap cocaine, instead of reading blogs, here’s an oldie but goodie, slightly updated:
So since Jay-Z came out with “Excuse Me Miss,” The term “Grown and Sexy” has been thrown around more than Karrine Stephens backstage at the BET awards. If you’re throwing a party, it’s for the Grown and Sexy. If you got a car that’s a sedan but not a lowrider or a Donk, it’s grown and sexy. You went and bought a shirt that’s not a XXXXXLT white tee, you guessed it, grown and sexy. Grown and Sexy has kind of turned into our generation’s “Whoomp, there it is.” Ironically enough, the most frequent overusers of this phrase seem to be 23 year olds whose parents still pay their car insurance. When I go to these grown and sexy parties, all I see are people in overdone tacky outfits who are trying to look too hard like they’re balling. So since I clearly don’t understand the accepted social definition of Grown and Sexy, I’ll provide my own list of Grown man shit:

1. I don’t have to drink Moet out of the bottle at the club. Or pour it into other people’s upturned mouths. I don’t even like Moet. It’s too sweet for my taste. And I don’t feel the need to pay triple the liquor store rate to do what looked cool in rap videos in ’93. As a High school Sophomore, that looked like the life, now the shit looks ridiculous. Especially, if you drive away from the club in a Kia. I mean, last I heard, dead cat bounce and all, the recession ain’t over. Which means for every one of you that can legitimately afford the indulgence, the other five of you are putting it on your 24% interest Capital One card and will be paying for that bottle until your kids go to college. Don’t get me wrong, if you like something, go to it. But making a huge show out of it: why? If you must be seen “popping champagne,”  why not do a Nino Brown and just shove a slurpee straw in that bitch? At least that would be ironic, and isn’t that what you hipster folks like? Irony?  If I’m going to drink out of the bottle, it’ll be at home with some Veuve Cliquot and I’ll be pouring the rest down the small of some cute girl’s back.

2. I reserve the right to slap the shit out of people who think they’re being cultured by calling Moet “Mo-way.” That’s not how it’s pronounced. I know words in French ending in -et typically are pronounced “ay” This is an exception. Look it up on Wikipedia. You sound so stupid, it’s not funny.

3. I show a reasonable amount of decency to people. I’ve learned you never know who someone else is, and who they know. I don’t try to inflate myself by putting other people down or not treating people well. it’s a small world. I might run into you again and need something from you.

4. If you don’t want to talk to me, I’m not gonna get mad. My little display of “fuck you bitch” or “You ain’t that cute anyway” I realize is not going to get me any closer to what I want, so I’ll just refrain. I don’t know why you’re not interested. Frankly, I don’t care that much. Whatever the reason, that reason might have vanished or been locked up for a few months next time I see you, so I’m not going to cut down my success ratio with you and the rest of the girls who are watching by showing my ass.

5. If after I buy you a drink, you try to order one for your homegirl too, I’m not gonna get mad and call you a gold-digger. I’m just going to motion to my bartender that you’re not on my tab, and keep it moving. I do reserve the right to talk about your triflin’ ass to whoever will listen, however.

6. If the shit says black tie, I’ll wear a black tie. Not one of them extra short, fat-knotted pink and yellow Murakami Louis Vuitton ones. Save that shit for the BET awards. This is not reflective of minority events however, because at an African American black tie event, you’re almost guaranteed never to be the worst dressed person there. I once went to a BET holiday party and I shit you not, one dude had a leather tuxedo and a rhinestone tie on.

7. “I don’t wear skinny jeans cause my knot too thick.” OK, that’s a lie, I don’t wear skinny jeans because they look really bad on dudes. Fellas, leave the tight jeans to the women. If someone can read your credit card number through your pants, that’s not a good look. Male yeast infections ain’t what’s hot in the streets.

8. I don’t wear sunglasses on inside unless I’m high as a kite and my eyes are too red to be appropriate. That shit looks mad pretentious.

9. I’m not gonna spend a lot of time talking shit and bucking up because one of us brushed past the other a litle too hard. Either one of us should apologize and the other accept it, or someone needs to take a swing. All them words are wasted energy that could be used toward finding a threesome to cap off the night.

10. I tip appropriately. I might want to come back one day.

11. I find out the bartender’s name early in the evening and hook them up a little extra up front. A lot easier to grab a drink that way then by pounding on the counter and yelling, “Slim, what’s up wit my Hennessy.”

12. I ain’t paying sixty to get in. That could go to my Scottrade account or a good steak. I’ll just come back next week with my little “get in free before 11:00” email printout and party with the same exact people for the freesky.

13. More than three buttons on a suit is never appropriate. A square toe two inches wide with a suit is never appropriate. If Slim Thug has a blue Impala the same color as that suit and shoe combination, it’s not appropriate.

14. I don’t lead with with buying you a drink. I’ve been around women long enough to know that being your drunk sponsor isn’t going to make you any more interested in me as a person. If we know each other or have established something, sure, but until that point, you’d better reach into that oversized Louis purse of yearn and fish around for $11. I mean, you do have an oversized Louis purse, I assume you can afford it.

15. That .75 carats of flawed fucked up ice in your watch bezel ain’t fooling no one. Either save up for the real shit or just get a moderately priced tasteful watch. All your ass is doing is contributing to the misery of one more African in Sierra Leone.

16. My business has revenues, a tax ID, and a business plan. You ain’t the CEO of shit if all you have is a cool un-trademarked name and a website with “coming soon” plastered all over it.

17. I give money to my alma mater, savings account, and candidate that I want to win. Money talks, bullshit walks. And complaining about how bad politicians are or how they need to build some new dorms is bullshit. Do your part to make it better.

18. I don’t try and act sophisticated by telling people that you should eat red wine with meat and white with fish. Drink whatever the hell you like.

19. If no one’s paying y’all to appear in their ads, magazines, fashion shows, etc., I will not refer to you or your homegirls as models. You’re recreational picture-takers. So when the conversation comes to occupations, and the first thing you say is “I’m a model,” This is what it sounds like:

To You: “I’m like super-beautiful and glamorous and stuff, and I kick it with celebrities. People should be jealous of my awesomeness.”

To Me: “I’m a secretary, but I let skeevy dudes take damn near naked pictures of me trying to get into King magazine. Oh they’re out of business? Maybe a Rick Ross video. I’m kind of a groupie, and I’m really popular with the Myspace crowd. People will think I’m more important than I am if I tell them I’m a model. I’m slightly ashamed of my day job. I have a sex a lot with guys that wear fugazi chains and say they’re producers.”

20. I don’t have to lie to get ass. I’ll show you what I got and you make up your own mind. If I tell you what’s what and you’re not down, cool. Saves me the stalker experience two months from now. My tires (were) twenty-inch Z-rated Run-flat Goodyears. I do not know how much they cost ( They cost $282 per. When I sold my car, this is what the dealer took off his offer because the fronts were a little worn) and I do not plan to prematurely find out because I fooled you into fucking and now you’re vindictive. And handy with a boxcutter.

Comments
  1. Kennedy Nicole says:

    I love this list!!! I was just thinking that I should get out more like I did a couple of years ago. I then looked at the pics on a nightlife site in town and thanked God I didn’t follow my first mind. The people were all over-doing it, looking straight hood or trying to pose. WTH. I don’t miss it. I don’t think I could take that foolery every weekend again.

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